Wizarding Orchestra
by Alex the Anachronistic
Summary: All I can say is...this was first inspired by a section of my giant 7th HP novel that never got finished in which my Mary Sue starts up an orchestra, getting Snape to conduct it. I was inspired by a friend from school to do this. Short story.


_Disclaimer: I didn't create the Harry Potter universe, I'm not J.K. Rowling. Don't kill a simple fan._

_Note: Some musical jokes/puns may be used that might not make sense/be funny except to musicians…just a warning._

**Why Dobby Thanks Potter**

John Pondicherry, England's greatest prodigy wizard conductor, brushed his longish black hair back and readjusted his glasses as he surveyed his newly assembled orchestra, a smile crossing his face. It had been a tough job arranging this train from engine to caboose, but he had finally managed the impossible task set by the Ministry of Magic--to unite the country and prevent the ominous civil war with magnificent musical magic. The very worst of wizard enemies were now sitting, side by side on stage, eying each other uncertainly.

The reincarnation of James Potter was upset that he had not been assigned to the trumpets with his son, and was practically ready to duke it out with Lucius Malfoy for concertmaster on first violin.

Luna Lovegood stroked her oboe lovingly and paid no attention to Neville Longbottom's clumsiness in dropping his piccolo on the floor right next to her.

Cho Chang and her flute seemed to melt under the intense gaze directed at her from Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting one chair ahead of her while holding one of her own.

Professor Trelawney was practically mauling the beautiful concert harp allotted to her, somewhere behind the first violin section.

Remus Lupin sat quietly as a mouse in the second violin section, not wanting to disrupt the reincarnation of Lily Potter as she scratched out a melody on the same instrument type next to him.

Narcissa Malfoy tried her best to appear complacent and cool while under the scrutiny of Minerva McGonagall in the viola section.

Hermione Granger decided that the clarinet in her hand was not as scary as having to sit next to Bellatrix Lestrange, who also bore one.

Ronald Weasley was exceedingly uncomfortable with his place with a bass clarinet, it being about as close to Severus Snape as he could get; the latter glared at his own contra-alto clarinet with a sinister gleam in an attempt to ignore one of his least favorite students.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Molly Weasley and Ginny were similarly unhappy to be far too close for comfort in the horn section, as Lord Voldemort aimed an AVADA KEDAVRA at his bassoon.

Nymphadora Tonks threw longing glances over her cello at Remus, avoiding the bewildered gaze of her section partner, Cornelius Fudge--his G string had popped and wanted assistance from someone…

Dolores Umbrage seemed ready to kill her alto saxophone, at the same time appearing more than exasperated with Horace Slughorn's booming baritone sax.

Charlie Weasley was stuck between them, fiddling with his tenor sax reed.

Harry Potter found himself aggravatingly assigned to the seat immediately next to Draco Malfoy in the trumpet section.

Fred and George Weasley made up the entire fleet of trombones, competing with each other to see who could create the loudest blast.

Hagrid was having a raucous affair with his tuba, which made poor Sirius with his baritone cringe.

Mad-Eye Moody pursed his lip and scanned the room suspiciously, taking cover behind the double bass.

Professor Filius Flitwick had closed his eyes and fallen asleep at the keyboard of the grand piano in the corner.

Mr. Arthur Weasley was ecstatic that he got to play the kazoo and other toys, and entirely ignored everyone else.

Dobby the house elf couldn't reach the timpani enough to play it while standing on the ground, so he simply leaped from drum to drum, pounding them with his tiny feet.

Percy Weasley played the bells and glockenspiel very reservedly, pretending his family was nowhere in sight.

Oliver Wood took his post at the cymbals more seriously than even Quidditch, a rare achievement for him.

Bill Weasley did not feel his eccentricity, or else he embraced it, when he strummed the ukulele.

Crabbe and Goyle took turns pounding on either side of the bass drum, giggling gleefully with the resounding BOOM!s.

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to laugh every time he practiced striking his tiny triangle near the two buffoons.

John Pondicherry gazed at his assembly, and felt that he had done a good service. A great sense of relief that he had gotten this far had settled over him. It would be a piece of cake from here-on-out, surely. Once these vicious enemies actually came to know and appreciate each other through the power of music, they would cease to hate each other, and national peace would be attained. John Pondicherry inhaled deeply, seeing a medal of honor somewhere looming in his future, and raised his baton.

With a swift, fluid motion, he began giving the parameters for 3/4, or waltz, time.

"One and…two and…three and…go."

Forty years after that day, Dobby the house elf published his memoir about what was remembered forever after in history books as 'The Greatest Battle of the Bands,' of which he was the sole survivor. Apparently, John Pondicherry had succeeded in his mission--national peace had been definitely found--but only because James Potter and Lucius Malfoy had begun to fight with their violin bows, and everyone had joined in the skirmish, and, in so doing, died. As the diminutive author himself wrote, "I tell Master Potter not to go to Hogwarts long time ago, yes. But it is thanks to [the fact he did that I be making seven billion [British pounds a year in sales of epic movie documenting event of his death, plus all money from t-shirts, this book, and much other stuff. Thank you Master Potter!" (Dobby, _Me Remember,_ pg. 1383).

It has been said, also, in an anonymous internet publication, how the author had discovered that the boy who called himself Harry Potter was not, in reality, Harry Potter at all, but a boy who drew a scar on his forehead with a Crayola to fit in with the Emo crowd at his school, to no avail. The real son of James and Lily Potter, the author claimed, was christened 'John' but adopted the name of 'Pondicherry', after the woman who took him in at the Potters' request. This used the evidence that Dobby presented in his own writing that "Pondicherry was a tall man, with much pretty black hair, big glasses, and a funny scar that made him seem like my Master Potter" (Dobby, _Me Remember,_ pg. 1195). But, however, aside from this reference and an unverified testament from Marlene Pondicherry, deceased 1978, that "Dear John I adopted from a young couple who said that they were in high danger from the Dark Lord, and asked me to care for their son. They must have died, for they never came back for him" (M. Pondicherry, page 4 of a letter to sister Ana Pondicherry, 1967), there is no proof supporting this claim.

So was the son of James and Lily Potter really John 'Pondicherry', or Harry 'Potter'? The world may never know…but it does not really matter, since both of them are dead anyways. Either way, their combined efforts did end the war against Voldemort, after all.


End file.
